


Let the Bad Times Roll

by alynwa



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs and his team are working to solve a Marine's murder while a crisis is brewing within the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story references FeatherMcStrange's tale "What's in a Name." I want to thank her for allowing me to do so.

_Friday_

Gibbs got the call just after lunch.  “Dead Marine in Georgetown!  DiNozzo, get the truck.  McGee, call Ducky!  Ziva, with me!” he barked as he pulled his gun from the drawer.  He started walking toward the front elevator, confident that the former Mossad agent would fall in behind him.

“On it, Boss!”  McGee and Tony answered in unison as they grabbed their gear and headed towards the rear of the building to the elevators that would take them to Autopsy and the garage, respectively.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

The team converged on the Bayou restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue and was shown to the men’s room by the extremely nervous manager.  The dead man was in the last stall seated on the toilet, eyes staring at nothing.  Something was wrapped tightly around his neck.  He was dressed casually in jeans, and a button down, short sleeve shirt. 

“This is terrible; a terrible thing!” the manager was babbling, “Nothing like this has ever happened in this restaurant!  Our reputation is going t…”  He bit off what he was about to say when the silver – haired agent turned around to stare at him.

“Who found him?” he demanded.

“The, the, the _sous_ chef.  We open at four and the staff comes in to prep for the night.  He called me and I called the police.  They found his military ID and called you.”

Gibbs looked at McGee who spoke up immediately.  “This is Gunnery Sergeant Bodie Surette, currently home on a month’s leave after serving a tour in Iraq.  Unmarried, twenty – five years old, lives on base, originally from Louisiana.”

“That would explain the choice of restaurant, now wouldn’t it?”  Jimmy Palmer interjected as he and Dr. Mallard entered the bathroom with a gurney.  “I guess the good times didn’t roll for him, huh?”  At Gibbs’ glare, Jimmy began to stutter, “Uh, you, you know, the Cajun saying ‘ _Laissez les bons temps rouler’?_ Let the good times roll?”

Gibbs snarled, “Do ya think you could roll the gurney over there and help Ducky or would you rather check out the menu?” before turning his back to speak to the Medical Examiner.  “Time of death?”

“Approximately twelve to fourteen hours ago,” Ducky replied, “I’m reasonably certain that he was killed somewhere else and dragged into the bathroom.  The scuff marks on the floor appear to match his footwear; Abby will be able to determine that once she has the scuff scrapings and the deceased’s boots.”  He motioned to his assistant, “Bag his head and hands, Mr. Palmer.  Let’s take him home.”

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Doctor Mallard had concluded his autopsy and was watching Jimmy as he put the Gunny to bed and wordlessly began to clean and put away the instruments they had used.  He wasn’t his usually upbeat self and hadn’t been since their return to the Navy Yard.  “Mr. Palmer!” he called, “Are you alright?  You seem…melancholy.”

Jimmy was about to answer when the door opened and Gibbs swept into the room.  “Whatcha got for me, Duck?”

“I, I’m going to see what Abby’s found out,” Jimmy mumbled before moving past the team leader and out the door.

“Jethro, I have become used to you showing up moments after I have learned some information, but this time, I _really_ wish you had come ten minutes later.  I wanted to talk to Mr. Palmer and now I fear the opportunity is gone.”

The taller man shrugged.  “He’ll be back.  Whatcha got?”

Ducky sighed.  _It’s no wonder he can’t seem to settle into a relationship; he focuses all his attention on the job._ “Cause of death is strangulation; the material around his neck is cheese cloth.  The Gunnery Sergeant had his last meal in that restaurant; everything in his stomach is on their menu, including last night’s special of crawfish.  There are some fresh bruises on his lower back and rib area consistent with punches thrown and defensive wounds on his hands and arms.  My feeling is that he more than likely knew his attacker because his food is barely digested and the fact that he was killed in the restaurant he ate in suggests to me they may have eaten together.”

“What is _cheese cloth_ , Duck?”

“It’s used in cooking to strain sauces, among other things.  I remember years ago, I had invited a young lady home with a promise of an authentic French meal.  I needed cheese cl…,” he turned just in time to see the back of Leroy Jethro Gibbs disappear around the corner into the hallway.  “Well, _I_ thought it was an interesting story.” 

He sat at his computer to enter his findings into his formal report.  Twenty minutes later, he answered his ringing phone.  “Autopsy.”

“Duckman!” Abby practically shouted into his ear.  He smiled; no one called him “Duckman” except her.  He thought of her as the grandchild he never had. 

“Hello, my darling!  What can I do for you?”

 “Would you please put Jimmy on the phone, please?  I need to ask him something.”

Confused, Ducky sat back in his chair.  “He’s not there with you?  He headed your way almost half an hour ago.”

“I haven’t seen him all afternoon.  Is everything OK?”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.  I probably misunderstood him.  I’ll tell him to call you.  We’ve finished the autopsy and for once on a Friday, I plan to leave at a decent hour.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Mr. Palmer’s and my services will not be needed this weekend.”

“Ugh, I wish.  Nevermind about Jimmy; it can wait until Monday.  I’m on call so I’ll probably be here.  Oh!  My mass spectrometer’s calling.  See ya, Duck!” and the line went _click._

 _How odd,_ he thought, _the last time Jimmy was disappearing was when he was having that affair with Agent Lee._ He shook his head quickly as if to clear that thought out of his head.  _He’s not having an affair; Mr. Palmer is besotted with Breena._ The _swoosh_ of the door announced his assistant’s return.  “Abby just called looking for you, but it can wait until Monday.  Mr. Palmer, _Jimmy_ , you were about to tell me something when Jethro walked into the room.”

“It was nothing, Doctor Mallard.  I never made it to Abby’s lab because my _wife_ …”  It warmed the older man’s heart to see Jimmy smile again at the realization that he _has_ one now.  “My wife,” he continued, “called and I’ve been speaking with her.  I’m sorry, did you need me?”.

Ducky stood up.  “No, my dear boy.  I’ve finished my report, the body’s been released and it is time for all good MEs to go home.”

They donned their coats and walked out to the parking lot together.  Just before they were about to go their separate ways, Jimmy said, “Dr. Mallard, I want, I just want to, to _thank_ you for being a good boss and a great teacher.  I have, I have so much respect for you.” 

Ducky’s eyes widened in surprise when Jimmy spontaneously bent down and hugged him.  The smaller man froze for a second before lifting his arms to gently return the hug.  He moved back to look into Jimmy’s face.  “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.  Are you?”

Jimmy smiled sadly and replied, “No, no.”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know, maybe.”

Ducky glanced at his watch.  “You and I need to talk, but not now.  What I want you to do now is go home to your bride and let her help you put this work week behind you.  I ask only that you do not reach any decisions about the direction of your career before we speak again.  Would you come by my home on Sunday?  And, of course, Breena is invited.”

The smile he received in response was brighter and bigger than the one it replaced.  “I’ll see you Sunday, Dr. Mallard.”

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Ducky was sitting in the living room of his Georgetown townhouse later on that evening listening to his favorite recording of Puccini’s “La Boheme”while sipping three fingers of forty year old Old Pulteney single malt scotch whiskey.  When his mother had passed away, he had ordered it online and thought the twenty – three hundred dollar price tag well worth it. 

“Ah, Mother,” he said aloud, “I learned my lesson about buying expensive scotch and letting _you_ see it.”  He chuckled.  “I came home from work once to find you and the Corgis passed out and the bottle empty.”  The recording ended and rather than getting up to flip it over, he allowed the silence to envelope him.  He was loathe to admit it to anyone, but he was terribly lonely.

 _Even after I moved Mother into the nursing home, I still had the dogs to come home to in the evening.  Once she died, I couldn’t bear to even look at them._ “I have no family, now,” he sighed.  “I know if you were here, Mother, you would remind me that I have a brother and a nephew and then _I_ would remind _you_ that they are in Scotland and have not spoken to me in years and when we _did_ speak, it was because I called _them._ ” 

He removed the record from the turntable and placed it back in its jacket.  “My coworkers are the only viable family I have left anymore.”  He headed upstairs to prepare for bed.  _And of that family, Jimmy is the one by my side all day, everyday._ “I can’t lose you, Mr. Palmer.  I refuse.”


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday morning found Gibbs listening to his team tell him what they had learned so far.  Tony was saying, “Ziva and I showed Surette’s picture to and interviewed the general manager, all the servers and the bartender, Boss.  Each one swears that Surette was not in the restaurant Thursday night and they’ve never heard of or seen him before.”

McGee piped up, “I spoke with his Commanding Officer and according to him, no one in his unit had a beef with the Gunny.  He had been dating a college girl, but they had recently broken up; apparently, she dumped him because she didn’t want to wait for him to come back from his tour.”

“You know what that’s like, right, Boss?” fell out of Tony’s mouth before he could stop himself.  When Gibbs glared at him and sidled closer, Tony smacked the back of his own head.  “Sorry, Boss, won’t happen again.”

Gibbs stared at him a few seconds longer before turning away to regard the rest of his team.  “Ziva, bring in the ex – girlfriend and see if she knows anything.  McGee, look further into his background.  We’re missing something.”  He went to his desk and began working on his computer as Ziva and Tim went about their assignments.

“Um, Boss?” Tony asked, “What about me?”

Just then, Gibbs’ phone rang and he answered.  Replacing the handset in the cradle, he looked at his senior agent and said, “You can escort Cyrille Bernard up to the conference room when he gets off the elevator.”

“And, he would be…?”

“The owner of Bayou.”

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

“Mr. Gibbs…”

“ _Agent_ Gibbs.”

“My bad, Agent Gibbs,” Mr. Bernard replied, “I just came here to find out when I can reopen my restaurant.  There’s crime scene tape all over the front and I don’t know what to tell my staff or my patrons.  I’m sure you don’t care, but my place is popular with the Southern transplants in this town.  I’m afraid I’ll lose my customers to some soul food spot if I don’t start serving again soon.”  He was about six feet two, slender with dark brown curly hair and looked to be in his late twenties.

Gibbs stood up and said, “You’re right; I _don’t_ care.  I have a dead Marine that was found in your restaurant’s bathroom and I have no idea why or who put him there.  My ME says he was killed and then placed in that stall, so NCIS is going over that place with a fine tooth comb to determine what happened and until they _do_ find out, your place is off limits to the public!”

Bernard stood and looked Gibbs in the eye.  “It seems I’m going to have to have my lawyer look into this.  I can’t afford to keep my restaurant closed, Agent Gibbs, and since I am not a suspect, I don’t think I need to take any crap from you.”

Gibbs leaned in closer.  “What makes you think you’re not a suspect?  It’s _your_ restaurant.”

“Yeah and like I told your Agent McGee, I wasn’t there.  It was my night off; ask my GM or any of the staff for that matter and they’ll _tell_ you I wasn’t there.  Actually, I’m sure your people already have.  I’m there six nights a week, but on Fridays, I avoid that place like the plague.  I have a wife; I think she would leave me if I were there _every_ night.”    He chuckled, “Well, not literally, but she wouldn’t be too happy.  You know the saying:  ‘Happy wife, happy life.” 

“Can’t say I do.  So your wife’s your alibi for last night?”

“We were home last night, yes.”  The man held his hands out at his sides.  “I’m sorry, Agent Gibbs, but I’ve never heard of your dead Marine.  Do I have to have my lawyer call you?  Your investigation is important, I know that, but so are the livelihoods of my staff.  What am I supposed to tell them?”

The agent seemed to think about it and finally said, “Don’t call your lawyer.  You can reopen tomorrow for dinner.  I’ll make sure of it.  If I need something else, I’ll let you know.”  He opened the conference room door and led the way back to the bullpen area.  “Agent DiNozzo, escort Mr. Bernard out.”  _Can’t hurt to let him think he can intimidate me._

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

McGee was sitting at his desk when Gibbs and Bernard walked down the steps.  After Tony and the restaurant owner were out of the area he said, “Boss, I have some more background on Surette.”

“Don’t make me guess, McGee.  Whatdya got?”

“Bodie Surette was raised in Pierre Part, Louisiana.  His father, brothers, uncles and one sister are all alligator hunters in the Atchafalaya Swamp.  He was learning the family business when he suddenly quit and joined the Marines instead.” Gibbs raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.  “I got that information first from speaking with his CO and then calling his former employer who said something happened, but Bodie wouldn’t tell him what; only that he didn’t want to stay in Louisiana anymore and enlisted to get out of town.”

Tony came off the elevator and went back to his desk.

“DiNozzo!”

“Yes, Boss?”

“You’re going to Louisiana; I need you to find out what happened to Bodie Surette that made him join the Marines.”

“Goin’ to the land of ‘Deliverance!’  On it, Boss!” he announced gleefully as he picked up his phone to arrange for a flight to Joint Reserve Base in New Orleans.  After ten minutes, he hung up and announced, “Gibbs, there’s a military flight heading to the Joint Reserves Bases in three hours and I’m on it.  I’ll call you when I know something!” he called as he ran to the elevator.  “McGeek, behave while I’m gone!”

Gibbs was already dialing a number.  _I’ve got a gut feeling._

The agent in charge of the crime scene took one look at the caller ID on his ringing phone and answered, “Yes, Agent Gibbs; this is Dorneget.”

“Dorney, how much longer to process the scene?”

“We’re actually finishing up now.  Something you want checked out?”

“Yeah, dust the owner’s office for prints.  If the manager asks why, tell him you think the murderer may have gone in there.”

“Underst…” Dorney stopped when he heard the _click_ of the disconnect.  _I hate it when he does that._


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy Palmer parked in Ducky’s driveway early Sunday afternoon.  As he came up the porch stairs, the door opened to reveal his mentor casually dressed in khakis, a polo shirt and a pair of loafers.  “Hi!  You look so, so _different,_ Dr. Mallard!”

Ducky stepped aside to allow his guest to enter.  “I could say the same to you; it is rare that I see you in jeans.  Do you think I sit around my home in a suit and tie, Mr. Palmer?”  He looked toward Jimmy’s car.  “I thought you were bringing Breena with you.”

They sat in Ducky’s living room; Jimmy on the sofa and Ducky in his favorite recliner.  “Breena says ‘hello’ and she appreciates the invitation, but she thought it best that it be just the two of us.”

“I have beer in the refrigerator, Jimmy; would you like one?”  At the young man’s nod, Ducky went into his kitchen and returned with two beers and a bowl of chips with dip.  After they each took a draw on their beers, Ducky said, “Well, let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we?”

Confused, Jimmy repeated, “Brass tacks?”

 _This younger generation,_ Ducky sighed to himself.  “Business, Mr. Palmer.  _Jimmy_.  I noticed you were not your usually ebullient self on Friday and truth be told, that was not the first time I’ve noticed you looking glum recently.”

Jimmy leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fisted hands.  “It’s Gibbs, Dr. Mallard.  The, the way he treats me.  I keep hoping it will get better and it just… _doesn’t._ He doesn’t respect me; I don’t even think he likes me.  I’ve been talking it over with Breena and she says if I’m so unhappy, I should look for another position.  After what you and I went through recently, I’m thinking life’s too short to be unhappy.  I’m starting to think she might be right, maybe I should begin looking for something else.  I mean, you’re, you are…” his voice trailed away.

“I’m _what,_ Jimmy?”

The words tumbled out of him, almost as if he were afraid he might not get them out.  “Forgive me, Dr. Mallard, but you’re _old!_ I, I, I, kind of hoped that _I_ would be named Chief ME upon your retirement or your, your…retirement," he finished lamely.  “But, I think if Gibbs has anything to do with it, that won’t happen and if he can’t stop my becoming the CME, he’ll make my life miserable when I do.  He acts like he can’t stand the sight of me or, for that matter, the _sound_ of me.  He walks into Autopsy and stares at me until I leave.  If I say anything, like my comment last Friday, he snaps at me.”

“To be fair, Mr. Palmer, the comment _was_ a tad tasteless.”

“More tasteless than the comments Tony makes at crime scenes?  Or Ziva’s overly blunt statements?  I don’t think so, Doctor.  He barely tolerates me and when you’re no longer there, I only see it getting worse.  I don’t know what I did, or didn’t do, to make him treat me the way he does.  You know why I can’t live like that.”  He looked down at his shoes and then checked his watch.  “I promised Breena I wouldn’t be gone long; I have to go.  I just wanted you to know, Dr. Mallard.  I don’t want you to be blindsided if I hand in my resignation or you’re contacted for a reference.”

Ducky gazed at Jimmy silently for a minute as he processed everything he had been told.  _I do know why you can’t live like that.  I can only imagine the pain, shame and fear you felt at the hands of your father.  Jethro may feel like relationships aren’t a priority, but I’ve never had the luxury of having many significant others._ Reaching a decision,   he inquired quietly, “Mr. Palmer, if I can make this right, will you stay?”

“How would you do that, Doctor?”

“Let me worry about that.  Just answer the question:  If you get the respect you need, will you stay?”

The smile Ducky thought of as sweet overtook Jimmy’s face.  “Yes, Doctor, I would stay.  I _want_ to stay.”

“Good.”  They walked to the door and as Ducky saw Jimmy out he said, “Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Mr. Palmer.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

He picked up the empty beer cans and carried them into the kitchen.  _Jethro, you and I are going to have a little chat._

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs was in the basement of his house planing the wood of his latest boat while he thought about what Tony had told him when he called earlier.  _So, Cyrille Bernard grew up in Terrebonne Parish, right next door to Assumption Parish where Surette was raised.  There are no coincidences; they_ had _to have known each other.  There’s a connection and when Tony finds it…_

The ringing of his cell broke his train of thought.  He picked it up, checked the caller ID and answered.  “Yeah, Duck.”

“I’m on my way to your house, Jethro.  Are you there?”

“Yeah, in the basement.  Is something wrong?”

“Damn right there is.”  _Click._

Gibbs looked at his phone in surprise.  _Duck sounded pissed._ He shrugged his shoulders and went back to work.  _I’ll find out soon._

Thirty minutes later, Ducky entered Gibbs’ house and walked unerringly to the basement.  As he descended the stairs, he saw Gibbs stop working and sit down.  He pulled up a chair and sat opposite him.  “Jethro, we have a problem and I need you to fix it.  You have to start treating Jimmy Palmer with the respect he is due and right now.”

Jethro’s first reaction, which he swallowed, was anger.  He wasn’t used to taking orders from someone other than his superiors, but he knew Ducky didn’t give orders lightly.  Still…”Ducky, why do I feel like there’s an ‘or else’ coming?”

“He came to see me earlier today.  He feels disrespected by you and, I have to say, you _do_ disrespect him and because _you_ do, the rest of your team does, too.”  He held up his hand to stop Gibbs’ protest.  “Jethro, you are a fantastic investigator when it comes to solving crimes, but you are blind sometimes to things that are right in front of you.”

“Tony calls him ‘The Autopsy Gremlin.’  Timothy practically chases him out of Abby’s lab whenever he finds him there.  Ziva speaks to him at times like he is a mentally challenged child.  Do you really think they would treat him like that if you held him in higher regard?  They take their cues from you, Jethro.”

“I have worked hard to train Mr. Palmer; he is an excellent medical examiner.  He knows how I work and he knows what you want to know and when you want to know it.  _You_ should know that from the way he handled things while I was on sick leave.    It is my desire that he take over Autopsy when I step down.  If things do not change, he _will_ leave. I am almost eighty years old, Jethro.  I refuse to attempt to train another medical examiner.  I can’t do it again.  If you don’t change your attitude and your team’s attitude towards Jimmy, when he leaves, I’ll be right behind him.”  

Ducky stood up to leave.  “I know I haven’t given you a chance to speak, but in my mind, the only thing you can do is apologize.  You don’t have to break your Rule Six for me; I don’t need your apology, but you need to break it for Mr. Palmer.”

“Last year, I found out that he was physically abused by his father.*   He refuses to be afraid or intimidated by you or anyone anymore.  He told me today that he thinks you want him to fear you.  Do you?”

Gibbs was shocked.  “No!”

“Then make this right.”  He began to walk back upstairs.  “I will see you tomorrow.  Good night.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Special Agent Gibbs’ desk, Agent David speaking.”

“Ziva!  Miss me yet?”

Ziva rolled her eyes, but smiled in spite of herself.  “Tony!  How is Louisiana treating you?”

“I’ve fallen in love with Boudreau and Thibodeau’s cooking!”

“These are your new boyfriends, yes?”

“Haha.  No, that’s the name of a Cajun restaurant here in Houma.  I’ve never tasted food like this!  The crawfish, the gator, etoufee; it’s all amazing.”  Ziva jumped as Gibbs came up behind her and pushed the speaker button.  “I’ll bring some food back for you!”

“I didn’t send you there to review restaurants, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, “Whatcha got?”

“Boss!  Uh, hi.  Yes, I found out Bodie Surette graduated from Assumption High in Napoleonville and he had been dating a girl named, hold on a sec.”  The sound of pages flipping came across the speaker.  “Here it is: Amelia Broussard; he dated her all through high school.  According to his cousin, when Bodie asked her to marry him after they graduated, she turned him down because she didn’t want to be a gator hunter’s wife.  He found out she had also been dating a slightly older guy from Terrebonne who wanted to marry her and take her up North.”

“Lemme guess: Cyrille Bernard.”

“Correct, O Great Gibbs, but there’s more.  This same cousin, who is a close friend of Amelia’s, also said that Amelia had confided that she was never as happy with Cyrille as she had been with Bodie so when she told Amelia that Bodie was stationed in the DC area and doing well, Amelia told her she was going to get in contact with him.”

“Good job, DiNozzo.  You can come back home.”

“Yes, Boss!  You want me to bring you back some…” 

 _Click._ Gibbs disconnected the call and said, “Ziva, get McGee and go pick up Cyrille Bernard and his wife.”  He sat back and started thinking everything through.  _So, Bernard and Surette were in love with and competing for the same woman, a competition Bernard won.  They move here, he opens his restaurant and she resents the amount of time he spends there.  Her good friend tells her that Surette’s joined the Marines, is doing well and living in the DC area_. _Cyrille finds out she is in contact with her old boyfriend and is leaving him or he_ thinks _she’s leaving him and he somehow lures Surette to his restaurant, feeds him and then kills him._ “Works for me,” he said aloud before he got up to go buy coffee. 

As he walked out of the building to head to the Commissary he smiled to himself.  _I’ve been around Duck too long; he’s got me talking to myself._ Thinking about the ME brought him back to their conversation of the night before.    _He said I’m blind to things right in front of me.  God knows I’ve heard_ that _before._

He stood outside the building sipping his coffee and thinking back over the years that he has known Jimmy Palmer.  He thought about all the times he had barged into Autopsy, barged into the middle of a conversation between Ducky and Palmer and practically thrown Palmer out on his ear so he could speak privately to Ducky, not about a personal matter, but about a case.  Cases that Jimmy Palmer was also working on, but he never wanted Jimmy’s opinion, not because he thought Jimmy incompetent; but because Ducky is the Chief Medical Examiner.

He thought about all the times Ducky and Palmer arrived late to a crime scene and all the times Jimmy had cracked a joke or made a comment after arriving.  _It cracks me up that Ducky always lays the blame on Palmer’s sense of direction; I know he’s the navigator and map reader in that truck so if they’re lost, it’s on him.  And yeah, I do either snap at or ignore Palmer when he says something ridiculous, but I do the same thing to Tony._

He started to enter the building when another thought stopped him in his tracks.  _But Tony gets to show me everyday what he’s capable of and he knows that I respect his abilities and judgment.  I don’t give Palmer an opportunity to show what he can do.  When that crazy bitch and her son kidnapped Ducky years ago, I gave all the credit to Abby for figuring out his teeth were glued into another skull, even after Duck set me straight.  I haven’t even asked Duck what part Palmer played in their escaping their captors last week; I just figured Ducky did all the heavy lifting.  Remember Rule Fifty – One?_ “Ah man,” he said as he smacked himself upside the head, “Duck’s right.”  He tossed his empty cup in the trash bin and went inside.  Once he cleared Security, he headed straight to Autopsy.   

When Gibbs walked into Autopsy, Ducky was regaling Palmer with a story about his last golf game.  Both men looked up at the sound of the door opening and Jimmy made to leave.  “No, Palmer, I want to talk to _you_.  Ducky, give us a minute?”

The older man smiled, “Of course.  I will go see Abby.”  He glanced at Jimmy and winked.

Gibbs stood staring at Palmer for so long after Ducky left that he started to get nervous.  “You, you, you, you wanted to, to talk to me, Agent Gibbs?  Am I in trouble?”

“Gibbs.”

Jimmy blinked.  “Wha, what?”

“Gibbs,” he repeated, “Call me Gibbs just like everyone else.  I’m not much for talking, Palmer, but I’ve recently realized that I’ve been acting like a real bastard toward you; so much so that you’re thinking about leaving.  I want you to know that _I_ know you’re good at what you do.  Duck trusts you and I trust Duck.  I’m glad you’re part of the team and I want you to stay.”  He stared at Palmer a moment longer.  “That’s it.”

Jimmy was so stunned that he plopped down in a chair and gaped.  “I, I, uh, _thank you,_ Agent, I mean, _Gibbs._ ”

“Uh huh.  If you ever feel like I’m not giving you the respect you deserve, just say so.”  Gibbs turned to leave.

Jimmy teased, “How about I slap you on the top of your head?”

The agent turned back to face the junior ME and growled, “Only if you want to lose your hand.”  As Jimmy’s smile faded Gibbs added, “I’m only half – kidding, but seriously, Palmer, I am truly sorry that I made you feel like you didn’t belong.  I don’t feel or think that way about you and neither does my team.  I’ll be speaking to them, too.”  With that, he left the room.

Jimmy sat stunned.  _He apologized!  I know it’s a rule of his not to do it, but he did!  To_ me!  He pulled his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.  When Breena answered he said, “You are not going to believe what just happened!”

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

The Bernards were placed in separate interrogation rooms to cool their heels as they awaited Gibbs’ arrival.  As expected, Cyrille was incensed to be there.  When Gibbs finally entered the room, he jumped up and demanded, “Why were my wife and I dragged down here?  You already know I wasn’t there that night and my wife _never_ goes to the restaurant!I’m going to have my law…”

“Shut up and sit your ass down!  _Now!”_ Shocked and a little scared, Bernard complied.  Gibbs sat opposite him and said, “I sent my agent to Louisiana to both Assumption and Terrebonne Parishes.  He found out some very interesting things about you and Bodie Surette.  You lied to me, Mr. Bernard, and you’re lying now.  You knew Surette because he was your wife’s other boyfriend!”

“I knew she had another boyfriend, but I swear I didn’t know who it was!  I didn’t care!  She told me she didn’t want to stay in Cajun country and neither did I.  We eloped and moved to DC years ago and never looked back.”

Gibbs sat back and stared at the young man across the table.  _He’s telling the truth.  I hope Ziva is getting somewhere with the wife._

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

“Mrs. Bernard,” Ziva started, “I want to know about your relationship with Bodie Surette.  We know you dated for years.”

Amelia Bernard was twenty – five years old, but looked like she was still eighteen.  Her blue eyes peered at the former Mossad agent intently.  “It’s no secret, Ma’am, that Bodie and I dated.  I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the news about him being killed in Surry’s restaurant.  I just can’t get over it!”

Furrowing her brows in confusion Ziva repeated, “Surry?”

“Oh,” Amelia replied.  “Surry is what I call my husband Cyrille for short.”

“I see.  Did you know Gunnery Sergeant Surette was in DC?”

“Yeah, his cousin called and told me.  She gave me his cell number.  I called him and we had a very nice conversation.”

Gibbs had finished talking to Cyrille Bernard who, when told he could not see his wife, sat in the conference room Gibbs took him to dialing the number of his attorney.  He entered the observation room overlooking the interrogation room containing Ziva and Amelia and was watching Ziva put Amelia through her paces.  _She’s becoming an effective interrogator; there was a time I’d be worried she would begin torture tactics if  the information she wanted wasn’t forthcoming._

“So.  You spoke with him on the phone.  Did you tell your husband?”

Amelia laughed, “I take it you are not married, Agent David!  How do you think my husband would take to the news that I called my old boyfriend to chat about old times?  To answer your question: No, I did not tell Surry anything.”  The smile faded from her face.  “What are you saying?  That he found out somehow and… _killed Bodie?_ No, that’s not possible.”

“Where do you keep your phone in the house, Amelia?”

“With me, wherever I am on the closest table to where I’m sitting or lying or standing.”

Ziva hunched forward onto the table and looked the blonde in the eyes.  “Then it is possible that your husband could have looked at your phone’s caller ID and history and figured out that his wife’s old boyfriend had been speaking to her recently, yes?”

Amelia responded, “Omigod, I _did_ put his name in the phone when I entered his number, but Surry wouldn’t…”

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!”  Abby’s boisterous entrance drowned out the rest of Amelia’s response.  “I’ve found something really important!”  She grabbed his arm and he allowed her to haul him out of the room and towards her lab.

Once there, she dragged him in front of her computers.  “Agent Dornegat’s team pulled four sets of prints from Cyrille Bernard’s office; one set is Bernard’s himself, another belongs to our Gunnery Sergeant Surette, one set is unknown, but the last one, Gibbs, belongs to…”  She put a mug shot onscreen.  “Tadaaaaa!  Elliot Coulier, convicted man slaughterer, thief and suspected hitman!”

Gibbs leaned over and kissed Abby’s temple.  “Good work, Abbs.  Send his last contact info to DiNozzo’s phone,” he said quietly before exiting the lab.  He dialed Tony’s number.  “You and McGee bring in the guy whose info Abby sent you.  He’s our killer.”

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs had returned to observe Amelia’s interrogation just as another agent escorted her husband and his attorney to see him.  “I’m Jordan Rhodes, the Bernards’ attorney.  This interview is over.  If my clients are not being charged, we’re leaving.”

Just then, Gibbs’ cell rang.  “Yeah, Tony.”  After listening for a few minutes he said, “Got it.”  _Click._  

Wordlessly, Gibbs turned away to open the door to the Interrogation room.  “Ziva, let Mrs. Bernard go.”  He turned back to Jordan Rhodes and said, “Cyrille Bernard is being held on suspicion of murder.”  He turned Bernard around and slapped handcuffs on him.

“Why are you doing this?  I’m innocent!  Do something, Jordan!”

“You murdering _bastard!_ You killed Bodie!  You killed _Bodie!”_ Amelia screamed at her husband as she was led out of the room. 

Rhodes stepped in between them.  “This isn’t helping, guys.  I need to stay here with Cyrille, Amelia, are you okay to get home by yourself?”

Before she could answer Gibbs interjected, “I’ll have someone drive her home.  Agent David, take her to the Conference Room.  You can wait there until I send someone to drive you home.”

She wiped her eyes and replied, “Thank you.”    

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Forty minutes later, Gibbs entered the conference room.  “Honestly, Agent Gibbs, I thought y’all had forgotten about me!  If you still don’t have an agent free, I’m better now; I can take a cab.”

“Well see, here’s the thing:  I was talking to my agents who arrested the hitman whose fingerprints were found in your husband’s office.  When they confronted him, he said he had information and wanted a deal.  Imagine their surprise when he said _you_ had hired him and not your husband.  He told my agents you didn’t pay him enough money to take the fall for you.  He said that you had him hide in your husband’s office while you had a very late night supper with Surette in the kitchen and that if you brought him in there, he was to kill him.”

“You brought Surette into the office and he wrapped cheese cloth around his neck to strangle him, but Surette fought back.  Almost got away, too, but you kicked him in the privates and incapacitated him enough for Coulier to finish the job.  You cleaned up the kitchen, made it look like no one had gone in there while he put the body in the bathroom.”

“You’re crazy, Agent Gibbs!  I never…”

Gibbs slammed his hand down on the table.  “I will get a court order for your fingerprints and if they match the unknown prints my agents picked up in your husband’s office, and we both know they will, any chance for leniency for you flies out the window.  Tell me why you wanted Surette dead!”

“I _didn’t_ want him dead!  I wanted him to be with me, but he said I humiliated him in front of his entire family when I up and married Surry!  He said I was trash and he would never take me back, no matter what I did!  I asked him to meet me at Bayou after closing so I could talk to him one last time.  I begged him to change his mind; I told him I didn’t want Surry anymore.  He said he didn’t care, that he had his pride.  Well, so do I.  When he said he was going to tell Surry everything, I didn’t have a choice anymore.”

“You had a choice,” Gibbs growled, “You just made the wrong one.  Stand up.  You’re under arrest for murder and conspiracy to commit murder.”

When they stepped out of the room, Agents DiNozzo and McGee were standing there along with Cyrille Bernard and Jordan Rhodes.

“Amelia,” Cyrille said, “I can’t believe what these two told me about you!  Tell me it’s not true!  How could you even leave the house without me knowing?”

“Surry, I always told you you sleep like the dead after sex.  I just waited until you fell asleep.”  Gibbs motioned with his head and McGee led her away.

Shocked and saddened, Cyrille watched her go.  “I feel like a fool,” he said softly, “I really love her.”

“You should be feeling lucky to be alive,” Gibbs replied, “Coulier told my guys she hired him _weeks_ ago.  She was tired of you and tired of being alone.  Her original plan was to kill _you_ so she could sell the restaurant and keep all the cash.  When she found out Surette was in town, she figured she could have your money and her true love so she amended her plans to include him.  When he rejected her and she had him killed, she thought it would be too suspicious if another murder of someone she knew occurred so  soon, so she told Coulier to wait awhile.  In a way, Bodie Surette saved your life.”


	5. Epilogue

_Two days later…_

McGee, Tony and Ziva stepped off the elevator on their floor with coffees in hand ready to start the day.  As usual, Gibbs was already at his desk and engrossed in a conversation with Ducky, who sipped his tea and spoke.  “Good morning, all.”

“Morning, Ducky!” they answered in unison before acknowledging their boss.

“Not used to seeing you up here so early, Ducky.  Is the Autopsy Gremlin around, too?”

“DiNozzo, get over here!  Ziva, McGee; you, too.  I’ve got something to say to all of you.”  When they came to his desk he said, “Dr. Mallard showed me that I forgot one of my own rules and that it’s affected the way we’ve been treating a team member.”

“From now on, anyone mistreating or disrespecting Jimmy Palmer is going to answer to me.  That means, _DiNozzo,_ that I don’t want to hear you calling him any names.”

“No names.  Got it, Boss!”

Gibbs looked at Ducky who nodded solemnly.  Before he could say anything else, his phone rang.  “Gibbs.”  After a few seconds, he said, “Be right there.”  He stood up and headed upstairs to the Director’s office.

The three agents looked at each other.  Ziva looked at the ME who was finishing his tea and preparing to head to his office.  “Ducky, what rule did Gibbs forget?”

Gathering up his coat and briefcase Ducky answered, “Rule Fifty – one.”

McGee said, “I don’t think I know that one.  What is it?” 

Ducky smiled, “Oh, Timothy.  Rule Fifty – One doesn’t come up in conversation much.  I only know it because he told me about it during his third divorce.  I think of _all_ Jethro’s rules, this is the one he quotes the least and breaks most often.  Rule Fifty – one is:    Sometimes I’m wrong.”


End file.
